The way you move
by kimmiesjoy
Summary: Post epi for Still. She has to move, her body feels coiled with untamable energy and she doesn't want to be frozen anymore. No more standing still.


**A/N:** Mushed out ball of goo!

* * *

"Say it again."

She laughs into his neck, tugs his shirt apart roughly and scatters buttons across the wooden floor. She has to move, her body feels coiled with untamable energy and she doesn't want to be frozen anymore.

No more standing still.

"Woah" He thuds into something, no idea what, her mouth is already over his and her tongue steals his ability to form that thing with words. Sentences, he forgets how to make those. But he wants to hear it.

She breaks away from his lips and he takes his chance, eyes closing at the feel of her teeth against his jaw.

"Say it again."

She groans, moves up and bites his lower lip, pulling herself back with a gasp, her eyes rake over his body, head to toe and she rasps her nails over his chest leaving jagged red lines. "I just -" She pants against him, rolling her hips, shifting her feet and her hands roaming like she can't stop touching him, can't stop moving, now that she can. "I need to be having sex with you, right now."

He laughs, "Not that." She gives him a knowing look, rolls again, chest and hips and pelvis grinding hard against him, "Well yes, that. That too."

Her eyes glisten, green and brown run through with gold, red hot like coals and burning furnace-bright, the fire long since started and she moans letting it consume her, until she's fused to him, melting into him. Igniting him with her touch.

"I almost died, again, and all I could think about was you." She kisses him, fierce and hard, her teeth nipping at his skin, making him hiss just so she can soothe the moans and growls with her tongue, every little bit of it packed with urgency and the desperation to move. It's messy and real and his hands fist in her shirt, shoving it down her arms.

"Sounds familiar." He growls, his voice as rough and raw as the breath escaping her chest, his mouth in the hollow of her throat as he reaches around and unclasps her bra with one hand, the other thumbing her jaw, tilting her head so he can suck on her neck.

"No, this was different." She slides her hand down the front of his boxers, inside the material and where did his pants go? What does it matter now? He thrusts forwards, pulls her closer at the same time.

"I nearly died and all I _let _ myself think about was you. Every kiss, every touch and this."She circles him, her grip tight and hot and she hums when he thickens against her palm. She rolls her tongue against the roof of his mouth almost a reward for good behavior - she grins at that thought - and breathes out this pleased little noise when he stiffens again within her curled fingers.

He shudders, his teeth holding onto the swell of her lower lip, sucking through the moan that wants to drag itself up out of his chest. He reaches for her with both hands, her underwear the only barrier between them and a flimsy one at that.

He curves his wrist, an artful flick, and the flat warmth of his palm grazes her stomach and sends shivers through her belly, way down deep into the depths of the heat waiting for him. His fingertips slide past the waistband and she's so warm, so wet and ready that his fingers slip against her lips. He moves slow and steady through swirling desire that paints the tips of his fingers, drenching him as he moves under and up and inside her so perfectly.

He feels her flex and tighten against his fingers, she makes this little noise, low and almost unheard, at the back of her throat. Her nails bite into him and she lifts onto her toes, throwing her head forwards against his shoulder when the heel of his palm circles in time to the waving roll of his fingers.

She shoves aside her underwear as best she can, refusing to lose contact with him. A finger either side of the tiny thrumming heartbeat between her legs and he marches his fingers, stroking, stroking, stroking fast until she whimpers and pushes him away.

She rips the rest of their clothes off, kicks aside her underwear and, needing more, she pulls him into her tightly, lifting for his mouth again.

He kisses her back, just as fiercely as she kisses him, just as intensely, his hands fisting in her hair, scraping over her breasts, teasing and tweaking and caressing until she's losing her mind. His large fingers, spread wide and run down her back, stroking her spine and grabbing her ass, a cheek in each hand that he squeezes.

She yelps, biting at his tongue and slipping her hands in between them, finding skin of her own to tease and pester in retaliation.

It's good and fast and hot and just what she's wanted from the moment she was finally able to move again, from the moment she threw herself into his arms.

She grunts when he reaches for her, fingers massaging her thigh, caressing her hip and urging her until she wraps her legs around him. Their eyes meet briefly and he surges up, rolling on the balls of his feet and sliding inside her in one long, slow stroke that drags his name from her lips.

Her eyes close and her forehead presses against his own, panted, bated breath catching on the others lips. They hold on tight, letting the beat of their joined bodies settle and quiver between them, racing to keep up with the tempo of their hearts.

Still standing, he pulls out slowly, feeling her shudder and resist, like she can't bear him to leave and the vice like grip she has on him sends him surging straight back into her waiting warmth.

Her eyes open just as slowly as the angled roll of his hips and she whispers against his open mouth. "All I could think about stuck there, standing still, was how much I like the way you... _move_."

She groans when he twists, and they finally, finally make it to the bed.

"And that you love me." He teases, almost laughing when her eyes open wide once more.

"And that." Kate smiles, holding onto his face with both hands and throwing her head back, sliding up, sinking down into his waiting hands. He grins, catching her mouth in another kiss, timed beautifully with the lift and roll of his hips,

She breathes out long and low, the moist air dancing over their skin, brushing softly, but doing nothing to cool their fevered bodies. They cling to each other, sweat sliding between them and hot, moist kisses finding home on the open line of their lips.

He slows them down, strokes his fingers lightly over her face, reverently, finding her eyes, smoke filled and hazy with the pleasure that ripples through her system, that will leave everything scorched and decimated in its wake.

"I love you too." He mumbles and she surges into him again, wraps her legs tight around his waist and thighs and takes those words of love right from his very tongue. She steals them away and kisses every little bit of it back into him.

It doesn't take long after that. The urgency overwhelming them, their bodies taunting and teasing each other until they collapse in a sweaty, sated heap.

* * *

It's the second time in two days that she wakes to find him staring down at her, warm and sleepy, her eyes drifting open in the streaming golden light of his bedroom.

There is no smell of coffee to accompany him this time, no soft padding of his feet on the rug and he's not standing at the end of the bed watching her from a distance. His arm is under her head and his fingers are curled at her elbow, sweeping softly back and forth. She blinks one eye open at him and he's smiling. Still smiling.

"Did you sleep?" She mumbles and he's so warm and solid that she cuddles in more, wiggling her toes against his shins, worming her feet between his calves.

She knows the answer before he even speaks.

"Some." He exaggerates, brushing a strand of hair back from her face, "I know _you _ did."

"Tired." She yawns, and holds onto him, slips her fingers into the spaces between his own and rolls her cheek against his chest. She's still fidgety, her body crackling with the need to both move and sleep, neither one conducive to the other, and she's so warm here, so comfortable, that she curls up with him and relaxes into it.

"What time is it?"

"Just after seven, no call yet though." His fingers tighten and she grins at him, enjoying his reluctance to have her leave his bed.

"Gates gave me the day." She pops that one eye open and looks up again, watching that little piece of information sink in, feeling the relaxed way his body absorbs the it and sinks back down into the mattress with her.

"She did?"

"Yeah, when we got back, not long after she told me to-"

"Kiss me." He smirks, preens a little bit. They're going to have to talk about that. "You know, I've always liked her."

She laughs, her arm spreading across his chest so she can drape herself up and over him, fingers curling around his shoulder when she hoists herself higher, "Liar."

"I mean it. She has very sound judgement." He nods emphatically, as if that confirms every word he speaks as gospel truth. His fingers drift through her hair, stroking lightly against her head where it's settled on his chest.

It's too early in the morning to roll her eyes. "Because she told me to kiss you?"

"Mmm and she gave you the day, knowing you'd be spending it with me, here, doing-"

She traps the rest of the words inside his mouth with her hand, muffling what is no doubt about to be very disturbing imagery.

She grimaces, "No picturing_ Gates _ picturing _us_, okay Castle."

He mumbles against her fingers, something she takes as agreement, light sparking behind his eyes and he kisses her palm, catching it with his own hand and holding it to his lips for a few extra seconds before he lets their joined fingers drop next to her head.

"So, did you figure it out yet?

"Hmm?" Her eyes open and close heavily, he's so very _warm _ and the movement of his fingers on her skin is almost hypnotic.

"Who fell first? Me or you?" He smiles when her eyes open and immediately narrow into thin, almost feline slits, that knowing look right back in place and her lips pursed exactly as they had been yesterday morning.

"Really?"

"Inquiring minds want to know."

"You mean annoying writers." She grins and traces the outer shell of his ear, letting him roll her onto her back with barely any resistance, just a little for fun.

He stares down again, the blue in his eyes deepening in shade and intensity, "I _mean_ people that _love_ you."

She stutters at that, always does no matter how many times they say it, "I love you too, Castle." Her fingers skim his lips, tracing his cheek and jaw when she pulls him in for a kiss far more sleepy and sloppy than she means it to be.

She sighs against him when he lifts away nudging her nose with the tip of his own, can't help the words as they slip out "You totally liked me first." She laughs when he jumps away, like he's been shocked, zapped by her belief.

"What?"

"Don't you remember? One of the first things you said to me was that I had gorgeous eyes."

He leans in close again and she parts her lips in readiness for another kiss, hoping and yearning but content to wait for him. Only he doesn't kiss her. Instead he watches the gentle lift and fall of her eyelashes, the soft flutter as they reveal the multitude of color hidden in her iris, the dance of her pupil contracting in the sunlight.

His thumb traces a line across her cheekbone, entranced by the chameleon change of color, brought about by a good nights sleep, or happiness, contentment or love, he isn't sure. He doesn't care, it is gorgeous and he hums low in the back of his throat.

"I wasn't wrong."

He meets her lips then, tastes the warmth of the blush that creeps over her skin and smiles into her kiss.

"Maybe we should just agree to disagree?" He questions against her lips, not wanting to pull away, but she shoves him and rolls after his falling body, putting them back where they started, curled up in the morning sun.

"Whatever you want to tell yourself, Castle." She grins. Because he didn't sneak out to bring her breakfast in bed or the paper. He stayed with her, this morning and yesterday, when it matters most he always does, and she smiles into his chest, letting her eyes drift shut and her nose snuffle into the crook of his neck.

Who fell first, how, why, when and where? None of it really matters anymore. It's all just a part of their journey, pages in the story of them. They'll rehash it, one day they might even solve it, but for now she thinks - stroking her fingers over his jaw as he finally gives in and closes his eyes to sleep with her - she thinks she was right the first time.

They're just getting started.


End file.
